More Happy Endings
Cotillions, ball gowns, chandeliers, jewelry-- the stuff of life, at
least, the stuff of my life before Darien entered it. How could I have
known that the simple incident of two people crashing into each other
in more ways than one) could have results far beyond mutual feelings
of great irritation and a bruised head?
I was a 'good child,' according to my parents. I did what was expected
of any 15-year-old girl- I attended Madame Finch's School for Young
Ladies and did fairly well, not receiving top marks, but ones that
couldn't be complained about anyhow.
This thrilled my parents; you see, they were of the very popular
belief, opposed by few like Madame Finch, that ladies must be
educated, but only enough to be useful to their husbands; everyone knew
that a 'brainy' girl would simply never catch a husband. So, in that
respect, I was perfect. I was very skilled at all the important aspects
of a girl's life- dancing, singing, playing the organ, and the most
essential, etiquette.
So then why was I so miserable? The answer should have been obvious
to all around me, but it wasn't. Almost everyone turned a blind eye
and deaf ear to my pleas to go hunting with Richard, Theo and the rest
of the boys; my begging to go fishing on the Thames, and to bet on the
monthly horse races were not ignored, however. They were greeted by
many a shocked exclamation or occasionally a swoon on the part of my
mother.
Sensible as I was, I never really tried to rebel or go out and do what
I wanted- I knew far too well that flippancy and disobedience were
tolerated about as much as farm animals within our peerless monstrosity
of a mansion. So, I would beg, be refused, and quietly obey without so
much as a "But, Mother...".
Thus, I plodded along, always feeling that something was missing in
my life, something big, but not being very aware of just what that
something was. I suppose I have Darien to thank for helping me find it,
although at first I was hard-pressed to find anything at all to be
grateful for, where he was concerned.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I ran inside the house infuriated by Theo's taunting- was it my fault
I was a "young lady" and couldn't go out and wade in the lake with him
and the others? I had certainly no choice in the matter; if I had, he
could be sure I would have been a boy, and one much manlier and stronger
than him at that.
Now, though, I was hoping against hope that no one had seen me give him
that resounding slap across the face; he had undoubtedly deserved it, but
this excuse would probably not go over very well with Father. I turned
back for one more look at the imprint my hand had made on his face.
Satisfied by his stunned countenance, I spun around once again to dash
into my room and promptly collided with a very hard torso.
Tears sprung to my eyes as I staggered backwards and hit the ground, for
while my three petticoats, pantalets, and lace-bedecked gown were very
attractive and elaborate, they were also entirely incapable of protecting
my rear end from the many falls and trips that resulted from my inborn
gaucherie. Through a haze of pain, I glanced up at my attacker, who
looked as if he were about nineteen years old. He was gazing at me
with a look of unrepentant amusement on his face. Then, sobering,
he assisted me to rise.
"I'm deeply sorry, I hope you aren't hurt," he said. I was uncertain of
what he was thinking, but wished I knew, for there was an undertone
of humor in his apology. I studied his features as nonchalantly as
possible, noting his strikingly handsome appearance, the sort of face
one couldn't easily forget- thick ebony black hair, of which a few
strands fell casually over his forehead and blue eyes, or maybe
they were green, I couldn't quite tell.
"I am not, fortunately. Thank you, sir, I appreciate your apology," I
said uncertainly, knowing how artificial my words must sound.
"No, I think you misunderstand me. I meant that I am deeply sorry
girls' seminaries seem to spend more time teaching how to attract men
than how to protect said men from being run over."
I felt my face grow very hot, and, shaking, I said, "With all due respect,
sir, it takes two people to cause a collision like the one we just had,
so I think it highly improbable that I am the sole culprit." Who did he
think he was anyway, waltzing in here and talking to me like that? At
that moment, I was strongly inclined to repeat my previous behavior with
Theo but for some reason, I felt that this time, with this opponent, I
just might not get away with it.
"Well, miss, I would enjoy nothing more than to stay here and take you
down another peg or two from your exalted position," he said, chuckling
lightly, "but I am afraid time does not permit. And might I suggest,
in the future, that you try keeping your eyes in the same direction
that your feet are going, so as to avoid future such embarrassments.
Good evening to you," he finished with a jovial smile. He bowed with
exaggerated courtesy and walked towards my father's study.
I stalked up the stairs to my room, furious that I had been thus made a
fool of; at the same time, however, I wondered who the young man was and
almost wished to see him again--after I had figured out how to return
his volley of insults, of course. I started to think of biting little
remarks I could make, should I ever happen to meet him again, and it was
with these thoughts that I felt into a deep slumber.
I woke up the next morning, and Luna told me that my father wished to
see me in his office as soon as I had eaten breakfast. I obliged, and
finished my breakfast of poached eggs, some soft rolls with orange
marmalade, oatmeal with sweet cream and kippers, without really tasting
any of it, due to my consternation that my striking Theo hadn't gone
entirely unnoticed.
My fears were needless, and my father gave me a kindly smile when I
joined him in his office. He was a rotund, jolly man, a few inches
shorter than me, with cheeks that were permanently stained a bright
red. He loved to eat, drink and make merry, and my mother was wont
to say that he cared more about his horses than he did about his family.
This was untrue; he was a caring and dutiful parent, though not such a
good judge of character.
He almost always gave me the benefit of the doubt but had a very bad
temper, and did not hesitate to raise his voice to unnecessarily high
levels at the slightest provocation. In all, he was basically a very
sweet, blustering old dear, and we were all incredibly fond of him.
I entered the room, wondering what had happened to cause this sort
of meeting, which was quite rare.
"Darien Shields, I would like to present my daughter, Serenity.
Serenity, this is Mr. Shields, your new tutor."
"P-pleased to meet you, Mr. Shields, I'm sure." I curtsied, wobbling a
little from the shock of this sudden development. It was the same young
man I had met the night before. And he was now to be my tutor? Well,
our first meeting had certainly not been one to portray me in a very
favorable light. Why the new plan? I thought they were happy with
everything at school. This could only mean trouble. I had been able to
get away with a great deal at Finch's because there were so many of us,
but with such personal instruction, I'd probably wouldn't be able to
continue carving interesting words (interesting because I often
overheard Jimmy using them in the stables and they didn't sound very c
ivilized) into my chair, and worse, I might have to actually start paying attention.
On the other hand, from the looks of him, that might not be so difficult,
a taunting little voice in my head said. I did my best to ignore the
voice, as it seemed to land me in deep water more often than not.
"The pleasure is entirely mine, Miss Tsukino, I assure you," said the
blue-eyed young man, a hint of an Irish brogue apparent in his tone,
as he bowed over my hand, winking almost imperceptibly. I was completely
taken aback. Had he really winked or was the surprise of the whole
situation playing tricks on my eyes? As he straightened, I realized by
the twinkle in his eyes that he had, and I smiled inwardly. If I had to
be burdened with private tuition, it was undoubtedly going to be rather
interesting, and this was a slight consolation as I graced up the stairs
to prepare for my first lesson.
An hour later, we sat in my father's study, alone. Leaning lazily against
the desk, he interrogated me about what I had done so far at Madame
Finch's, and watched expressionlessly as I recited a Shakespeare sonnet,
stumbling along the way a few times, wrote and translated a passage in
Latin from Virgil with my awful penmanship, sang an aria, and played a
Bach prelude. Then, because the first few times apparently hadn't been
enough, he startled me again.
"I'll wager you hated every minute of that, didn't you?" he said casually,
with a knowing smile.
Immediately infuriated by his calm, smug self-assurance, I vehemently said,
"Don't be ridiculous. What put such an idea in your head?" How was he
able to read me like that? It was uncanny and decidedly unsettling.
"Well, who wouldn't know it from the mechanical manner of the entire
performance? And then, of course, your rage at being found out is a
complete give-away. I see one of the things I'll have to teach you is
to not be quite so transparent."
I had difficulty finding my voice, becoming temporarily transfixed with a
fit of rage. Nevertheless, I managed to stop sputtering, and calmed down
a little, before letting him have it. Impudent cad.
"Transparent! How dare you? I most certainly am not and I'll thank you
to keep a civil tongue in your head." What was Father thinking when he
hired this young man? Well, he can be sure to rethink whatever it was
once I've spoken to him.
"I'm truly sorry if I've offended you," he said, suddenly becoming serious
and deferential, "I've acquired a very bad habit over the years..." his
voice trailed off and I noticed his eyes brimming with amusement.
"Yes, a very bad habit of what?" I inquired tentatively, with a faint
idea of what was coming.
"...of telling the truth, something most people don't want to hear."
He burst out laughing at the look of absolute fury apparent on my
probably crimson face.
"Relax. I should warn you from the first that I am also in the habit of
uttering sharp witticisms at every available opportunity, and seeing that
you don't seem to be able to respond to them, other than to puff up and
look angry, I shall try to go a little easier on you."
He grinned amusedly, clearly very pleased with himself, and I was thrown
off balance for a moment by the power of that smile. But only for a
fraction of a moment, mind you.
"Ha! Don't trouble yourself. I don't normally deal with such insolence
on a daily basis, so it will be refreshingly new and if you will allow me
some time, I can assure you that I will catch up very quickly," I said,
thrusting my chin upward defiantly. I wasn't sure if the 'very quickly'
part of statement was entirely true, but after all, the most important
thing was to keep up the strong front, right?
"Well, I must say, I do admire your spirit and your honesty. I shall try
not to change at least those aspects of your character, as I think I will
have to change everything else," he said, his voice tinged with mirth.
"Hmph! Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Shields, in thinking I will allow you
to change anything about me whatsoever," I replied a little haughtily,
with a tone signalling that our conversation was at an end.
"I don't recall saying you would allow me to change you; quite the
contrary, in fact, I see that it will take a great deal of time and
patience on my part to do so, but I expect a very good reward from it."
Evidently, he had not caught onto the signal, or was deliberately
ignoring it. Probably the latter, I thought ruefully.
"I hope you don't think I am overwhelmed with curiosity as to what
that 'reward' is, for I don't care," I said rather primly, "Personally,
I think, like many others, you are all show and no substance, you just
like to listen to yourself talk."
"Interesting, as I was just on the point of saying that about you, Miss
Tsukino," he said with a low chuckle that was slightly unsettling,
though I hadn't any idea why this should be so. "And as for the reward,
I think you will find out what it is soon enough; we both know you are
very curious as to what it is, there's no point in denying it."
I smiled sarcastically, and said "Touché. And it's Serena. I am hardly
old enough to properly suit 'Miss Tsukino,' or 'Serenity,' for that
matter."
"As you like it then, Serena. And Darien, here, for the same reason,"
he agreed, impatiently smoothing back a few strands of ebony hair from
where
they had fallen across his forehead.
"Lovely. Well then, Darien, let's set a few things straight from the
start, shall we? I don't want you laboring under any misconceptions
about me. I was entirely unaware that my father was planning to pull
me out of school to be taught by a private tutor. As you can probably
tell, I'm not thrilled about it, as it will only mean that I get even
more personalized nagging, berating and scolding to keep me in line and
make me into a lady," I said scornfully, slowly gaining momentum.
"Since there really is no one to take my displeasure out on besides
you, from this point onward you can try your utmost to be courteous,
gentle and unobtrusive if you want any consideration at all out of me.
And most of all, STAY OUT OF MY WAY!"
I rose from the piano bench as I said the last bit, in hopes that it
Would make my words all the more impressive, and finished my speech
with a mock-curtsy. There, now let's see what Mr. High-and-Mighty
has to say to that. Maybe I was a little too hard on him, he's
probably tongue-tied, poor bloke, bet he's never witnessed an
outburst like that before.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
"Are you quite finished, my little princess?" he drawled calmly, as a
shadow of that arrogant smile reappeared on his face. I nodded slowly;
he hadn't put any emphasis on the last few words at all, but something
told me that he didn't exactly mean them as a compliment. Actually,
they couldn't have been more insulting if he had just said what he meant-
that I was a disgustingly spoiled brat.
"Lovely. Well then, let's set a few things straight from the start,
shall we? I don't want you laboring under any misconceptions about me.
I was entirely unaware that my new client was planning on pitting me
against a pompous, self-righteous child like you. As you can probably
tell, I'm not thrilled about it, as it will only mean more headaches
and more immaturity than I care to contend with. Since there really is
no one to take my displeasure out on besides you, from this point
onward you can try your utmost to be attentive, respectful and demure
if you want any consideration at all out of me. And most of all, keep
your wits about you....that is, if you've got any."
Oh my. How does he manage to make my words more impressive when they
come out of his mouth? This one's sharp, no doubt about that. Ugh, I
can't think like that- I've never surrendered before, and I better not
start now.
"Yet another fault- absolutely no originality. Father's a darling, but
he really doesn't seem to notice when something's amiss in those he
hires- namely human intelligence."
With a velvety laugh, he walked over to me and kissed my hand once
again. As he straightened, I realized with a start just how close we
were. What was he doing?
"This will be quite a battle- actually, no, more like a full-fledged
war, seeing as we're both equally stubborn, blunt and determined to get
what we want. But make no mistake, I will take you on and I play to
win. After all, don't they always say 'All's fair in love and war?'"
he asked softly, and for some unimaginable reason, I shivered- whether
out of apprehension or excitement, I surely don't know.
Much to my distress, my shiver was not lost on him, for he cracked a
positively diabolical grin and said, "That ought to do it for
'introductions,'I suppose, unless you have another bombastic oration to present?"
I still couldn't quite speak.
"I didn't think so. Well, we start lessons tomorrow, 8 o'clock, don't
be late. You will bring your Latin, mathematics, literature and Roman
history books."
Ironically, his last statement jolted me out of my shocked silence, and
I croaked out, "I do hope you mean 8 o'clock in the evening, n'est-ce
pas?"
" Good one. No, my dear, I mean 8 o'clock in the bright, beautiful
morning. Seems as though the first thing I shall be curing you of is
unabashed laziness. Until tomorrow!" he said as he turned away from me.
Then, just as I was about to storm out fuming, he turned around and
remarked, "Oh, and by the way, as you seem to have an affinity for
French, see if you can figure out what this means; it may very well take
all night, but I'd like to know first thing in the morning what I mean
when I say, 'Laissez les jeux commencer.'"
"Oh, I know perfectly well what you mean, as the same thought occurred
to me right when my father introduced you. And for your kind information,
Mr. Darien Shields, the games have already begun!"
And with that I stomped out of the study and ran up the stairs to my room.
* * * * *
Lunch was quite uneventful; to my great displeasure, my mother had
invited Darien to eat with us, and I was informed that he would be
joining us for every meal thereafter. Father and Mother had a cheerful
conversation with their newest employee, and it was obvious that they
both liked him a great deal- no surprise there, as he was being very
charming, but somehow managing to seem very natural and easy about it.
By way of making small-talk, Mother asked what he had done and where
he had lived before he came here, but he managed to politely, and almost
imperceptibly, discourage this topic by engaging her in a discussion
about the cotillion we had attended a few nights before. I simply ate
without making eye contact with anyone and when my mother told me
sharply to stop sulking and that young ladies who looked so sullen would
never find someone to marry them, I was hard-pressed to swallow my anger
at the expression on Darien' face.
I spent my afternoon lying on the pink eiderdown quilt covering my bed,
thinking. There was clearly more to Darien than met the eye and without
actually realizing it, I wanted to know more about him. Who was he?
Where did he come from? His ordinary clothing belied his aristocratic
features, making it nearly impossible to figure out whether he was
truly of noble blood, or just a common man from one of the nearby
provinces. There was definitely a light Irish accent when he spoke,
and yet I could have sworn that there was something very Italian, or
maybe it was Spanish, about his face- where could he be from?
Some of my friends, well, rather, peers at Madame Finch's had left the
school for private tuition and from what I heard, their tutors were
obsequious young men, who eagerly presented their oh-so-slightly
embellished credentials and would do just about anything short of
jumping onto the desk and doing a jig (which, it was whispered in the
hall, one fellow actually did at the request of my friend Mina) to
insure the satisfaction of their pupils. From what I could deduce, their
attitude was something like, "Keep a smile on the little princess's face,
which in turn will keep a smile on Daddy's face, he'll fork over the
bullion, and that will keep a smile on my face! Everyone is happy,
everyone wins!"
Lucky me, of course, I had ended up with an instructor who looked
perfectly capable of making me a complete sycophant in order to please
him, rather than the other way around. I suppose in a way it was
somewhat nice that I hadn't been blessed with a blithering fool who
would stammer out "Yes miss!" and "No miss!" at my every command;
above all else, I loved a challenge, and I had a feeling that I had
finally gotten one. I just hoped fervently that I wasn't in over my
head-"I will take you on, and I play to win-" there was something
ominous and yet exciting in those words he had spoken and they baited
me into swearing that I would keep constant vigilance and never be
without a smart response to what he said or did.
Having made my resolution about how to deal with Darien, I took to
reading Ivanhoe, one of my all-time favorite novels. Adventure, bravery,
war and loyalty- the elements which comprised every book worth reading.
I had already pored over it several times, always skipping past the
romantic, sappy nonsense which I found tedious and Madame Finch's other
protégés usually found "utterly divine and so sweet." It usually took
all of my self-control to keep joining Raye in making tart remarks about
how they really ought to at least try making their incredible vapidity a
little less obvious. I had learned the hard way, namely losing my
afternoon meal as punishment for insolence, that filling my stomach had
priority over displaying my contempt for the other girls' empty heads.
I don't think I was entirely cynical and mean, though; I couldn't bear
to witness pain or sorrow, whether it was a human or animal experiencing
it and this usually became quite obvious to others within a few days of
meeting me. I had a few close friends at Madame Finch's, and we
generally kept to ourselves, but if there were only four or five, I never
noticed, for the ones I did have were the best a girl could ask for.
Cotillions, ball gowns, chandeliers, jewelry-- the stuff of life, at
least, the stuff of my life before Darien entered it. How could I have
known that the simple incident of two people crashing into each other
in more ways than one) could have results far beyond mutual feelings
of great irritation and a bruised head?
I was a 'good child,' according to my parents. I did what was expected
of any 15-year-old girl- I attended Madame Finch's School for Young
Ladies and did fairly well, not receiving top marks, but ones that
couldn't be complained about anyhow.
This thrilled my parents; you see, they were of the very popular
belief, opposed by few like Madame Finch, that ladies must be
educated, but only enough to be useful to their husbands; everyone knew
that a 'brainy' girl would simply never catch a husband. So, in that
respect, I was perfect. I was very skilled at all the important aspects
of a girl's life- dancing, singing, playing the organ, and the most
essential, etiquette.
So then why was I so miserable? The answer should have been obvious
to all around me, but it wasn't. Almost everyone turned a blind eye
and deaf ear to my pleas to go hunting with Richard, Theo and the rest
of the boys; my begging to go fishing on the Thames, and to bet on the
monthly horse races were not ignored, however. They were greeted by
many a shocked exclamation or occasionally a swoon on the part of my
mother.
Sensible as I was, I never really tried to rebel or go out and do what
I wanted- I knew far too well that flippancy and disobedience were
tolerated about as much as farm animals within our peerless monstrosity
of a mansion. So, I would beg, be refused, and quietly obey without so
much as a "But, Mother...".
Thus, I plodded along, always feeling that something was missing in
my life, something big, but not being very aware of just what that
something was. I suppose I have Darien to thank for helping me find it,
although at first I was hard-pressed to find anything at all to be
grateful for, where he was concerned.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I ran inside the house infuriated by Theo's taunting- was it my fault
I was a "young lady" and couldn't go out and wade in the lake with him
and the others? I had certainly no choice in the matter; if I had, he
could be sure I would have been a boy, and one much manlier and stronger
than him at that.
Now, though, I was hoping against hope that no one had seen me give him
that resounding slap across the face; he had undoubtedly deserved it, but
this excuse would probably not go over very well with Father. I turned
back for one more look at the imprint my hand had made on his face.
Satisfied by his stunned countenance, I spun around once again to dash
into my room and promptly collided with a very hard torso.
Tears sprung to my eyes as I staggered backwards and hit the ground, for
while my three petticoats, pantalets, and lace-bedecked gown were very
attractive and elaborate, they were also entirely incapable of protecting
my rear end from the many falls and trips that resulted from my inborn
gaucherie. Through a haze of pain, I glanced up at my attacker, who
looked as if he were about nineteen years old. He was gazing at me
with a look of unrepentant amusement on his face. Then, sobering,
he assisted me to rise.
"I'm deeply sorry, I hope you aren't hurt," he said. I was uncertain of
what he was thinking, but wished I knew, for there was an undertone
of humor in his apology. I studied his features as nonchalantly as
possible, noting his strikingly handsome appearance, the sort of face
one couldn't easily forget- thick ebony black hair, of which a few
strands fell casually over his forehead and blue eyes, or maybe
they were green, I couldn't quite tell.
"I am not, fortunately. Thank you, sir, I appreciate your apology," I
said uncertainly, knowing how artificial my words must sound.
"No, I think you misunderstand me. I meant that I am deeply sorry
girls' seminaries seem to spend more time teaching how to attract men
than how to protect said men from being run over."
I felt my face grow very hot, and, shaking, I said, "With all due respect,
sir, it takes two people to cause a collision like the one we just had,
so I think it highly improbable that I am the sole culprit." Who did he
think he was anyway, waltzing in here and talking to me like that? At
that moment, I was strongly inclined to repeat my previous behavior with
Theo but for some reason, I felt that this time, with this opponent, I
just might not get away with it.
"Well, miss, I would enjoy nothing more than to stay here and take you
down another peg or two from your exalted position," he said, chuckling
lightly, "but I am afraid time does not permit. And might I suggest,
in the future, that you try keeping your eyes in the same direction
that your feet are going, so as to avoid future such embarrassments.
Good evening to you," he finished with a jovial smile. He bowed with
exaggerated courtesy and walked towards my father's study.
I stalked up the stairs to my room, furious that I had been thus made a
fool of; at the same time, however, I wondered who the young man was and
almost wished to see him again--after I had figured out how to return
his volley of insults, of course. I started to think of biting little
remarks I could make, should I ever happen to meet him again, and it was
with these thoughts that I felt into a deep slumber.
I woke up the next morning, and Luna told me that my father wished to
see me in his office as soon as I had eaten breakfast. I obliged, and
finished my breakfast of poached eggs, some soft rolls with orange
marmalade, oatmeal with sweet cream and kippers, without really tasting
any of it, due to my consternation that my striking Theo hadn't gone
entirely unnoticed.
My fears were needless, and my father gave me a kindly smile when I
joined him in his office. He was a rotund, jolly man, a few inches
shorter than me, with cheeks that were permanently stained a bright
red. He loved to eat, drink and make merry, and my mother was wont
to say that he cared more about his horses than he did about his family.
This was untrue; he was a caring and dutiful parent, though not such a
good judge of character.
He almost always gave me the benefit of the doubt but had a very bad
temper, and did not hesitate to raise his voice to unnecessarily high
levels at the slightest provocation. In all, he was basically a very
sweet, blustering old dear, and we were all incredibly fond of him.
I entered the room, wondering what had happened to cause this sort
of meeting, which was quite rare.
"Darien Shields, I would like to present my daughter, Serenity.
Serenity, this is Mr. Shields, your new tutor."
"P-pleased to meet you, Mr. Shields, I'm sure." I curtsied, wobbling a
little from the shock of this sudden development. It was the same young
man I had met the night before. And he was now to be my tutor? Well,
our first meeting had certainly not been one to portray me in a very
favorable light. Why the new plan? I thought they were happy with
everything at school. This could only mean trouble. I had been able to
get away with a great deal at Finch's because there were so many of us,
but with such personal instruction, I'd probably wouldn't be able to
continue carving interesting words (interesting because I often
overheard Jimmy using them in the stables and they didn't sound very c
ivilized) into my chair, and worse, I might have to actually start paying attention.
On the other hand, from the looks of him, that might not be so difficult,
a taunting little voice in my head said. I did my best to ignore the
voice, as it seemed to land me in deep water more often than not.
"The pleasure is entirely mine, Miss Tsukino, I assure you," said the
blue-eyed young man, a hint of an Irish brogue apparent in his tone,
as he bowed over my hand, winking almost imperceptibly. I was completely
taken aback. Had he really winked or was the surprise of the whole
situation playing tricks on my eyes? As he straightened, I realized by
the twinkle in his eyes that he had, and I smiled inwardly. If I had to
be burdened with private tuition, it was undoubtedly going to be rather
interesting, and this was a slight consolation as I graced up the stairs
to prepare for my first lesson.
An hour later, we sat in my father's study, alone. Leaning lazily against
the desk, he interrogated me about what I had done so far at Madame
Finch's, and watched expressionlessly as I recited a Shakespeare sonnet,
stumbling along the way a few times, wrote and translated a passage in
Latin from Virgil with my awful penmanship, sang an aria, and played a
Bach prelude. Then, because the first few times apparently hadn't been
enough, he startled me again.
"I'll wager you hated every minute of that, didn't you?" he said casually,
with a knowing smile.
Immediately infuriated by his calm, smug self-assurance, I vehemently said,
"Don't be ridiculous. What put such an idea in your head?" How was he
able to read me like that? It was uncanny and decidedly unsettling.
"Well, who wouldn't know it from the mechanical manner of the entire
performance? And then, of course, your rage at being found out is a
complete give-away. I see one of the things I'll have to teach you is
to not be quite so transparent."
I had difficulty finding my voice, becoming temporarily transfixed with a
fit of rage. Nevertheless, I managed to stop sputtering, and calmed down
a little, before letting him have it. Impudent cad.
"Transparent! How dare you? I most certainly am not and I'll thank you
to keep a civil tongue in your head." What was Father thinking when he
hired this young man? Well, he can be sure to rethink whatever it was
once I've spoken to him.
"I'm truly sorry if I've offended you," he said, suddenly becoming serious
and deferential, "I've acquired a very bad habit over the years..." his
voice trailed off and I noticed his eyes brimming with amusement.
"Yes, a very bad habit of what?" I inquired tentatively, with a faint
idea of what was coming.
"...of telling the truth, something most people don't want to hear."
He burst out laughing at the look of absolute fury apparent on my
probably crimson face.
"Relax. I should warn you from the first that I am also in the habit of
uttering sharp witticisms at every available opportunity, and seeing that
you don't seem to be able to respond to them, other than to puff up and
look angry, I shall try to go a little easier on you."
He grinned amusedly, clearly very pleased with himself, and I was thrown
off balance for a moment by the power of that smile. But only for a
fraction of a moment, mind you.
"Ha! Don't trouble yourself. I don't normally deal with such insolence
on a daily basis, so it will be refreshingly new and if you will allow me
some time, I can assure you that I will catch up very quickly," I said,
thrusting my chin upward defiantly. I wasn't sure if the 'very quickly'
part of statement was entirely true, but after all, the most important
thing was to keep up the strong front, right?
"Well, I must say, I do admire your spirit and your honesty. I shall try
not to change at least those aspects of your character, as I think I will
have to change everything else," he said, his voice tinged with mirth.
"Hmph! Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Shields, in thinking I will allow you
to change anything about me whatsoever," I replied a little haughtily,
with a tone signalling that our conversation was at an end.
"I don't recall saying you would allow me to change you; quite the
contrary, in fact, I see that it will take a great deal of time and
patience on my part to do so, but I expect a very good reward from it."
Evidently, he had not caught onto the signal, or was deliberately
ignoring it. Probably the latter, I thought ruefully.
"I hope you don't think I am overwhelmed with curiosity as to what
that 'reward' is, for I don't care," I said rather primly, "Personally,
I think, like many others, you are all show and no substance, you just
like to listen to yourself talk."
"Interesting, as I was just on the point of saying that about you, Miss
Tsukino," he said with a low chuckle that was slightly unsettling,
though I hadn't any idea why this should be so. "And as for the reward,
I think you will find out what it is soon enough; we both know you are
very curious as to what it is, there's no point in denying it."
I smiled sarcastically, and said "Touché. And it's Serena. I am hardly
old enough to properly suit 'Miss Tsukino,' or 'Serenity,' for that
matter."
"As you like it then, Serena. And Darien, here, for the same reason,"
he agreed, impatiently smoothing back a few strands of ebony hair from
where
they had fallen across his forehead.
"Lovely. Well then, Darien, let's set a few things straight from the
start, shall we? I don't want you laboring under any misconceptions
about me. I was entirely unaware that my father was planning to pull
me out of school to be taught by a private tutor. As you can probably
tell, I'm not thrilled about it, as it will only mean that I get even
more personalized nagging, berating and scolding to keep me in line and
make me into a lady," I said scornfully, slowly gaining momentum.
"Since there really is no one to take my displeasure out on besides
you, from this point onward you can try your utmost to be courteous,
gentle and unobtrusive if you want any consideration at all out of me.
And most of all, STAY OUT OF MY WAY!"
I rose from the piano bench as I said the last bit, in hopes that it
Would make my words all the more impressive, and finished my speech
with a mock-curtsy. There, now let's see what Mr. High-and-Mighty
has to say to that. Maybe I was a little too hard on him, he's
probably tongue-tied, poor bloke, bet he's never witnessed an
outburst like that before.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
"Are you quite finished, my little princess?" he drawled calmly, as a
shadow of that arrogant smile reappeared on his face. I nodded slowly;
he hadn't put any emphasis on the last few words at all, but something
told me that he didn't exactly mean them as a compliment. Actually,
they couldn't have been more insulting if he had just said what he meant-
that I was a disgustingly spoiled brat.
"Lovely. Well then, let's set a few things straight from the start,
shall we? I don't want you laboring under any misconceptions about me.
I was entirely unaware that my new client was planning on pitting me
against a pompous, self-righteous child like you. As you can probably
tell, I'm not thrilled about it, as it will only mean more headaches
and more immaturity than I care to contend with. Since there really is
no one to take my displeasure out on besides you, from this point
onward you can try your utmost to be attentive, respectful and demure
if you want any consideration at all out of me. And most of all, keep
your wits about you....that is, if you've got any."
Oh my. How does he manage to make my words more impressive when they
come out of his mouth? This one's sharp, no doubt about that. Ugh, I
can't think like that- I've never surrendered before, and I better not
start now.
"Yet another fault- absolutely no originality. Father's a darling, but
he really doesn't seem to notice when something's amiss in those he
hires- namely human intelligence."
With a velvety laugh, he walked over to me and kissed my hand once
again. As he straightened, I realized with a start just how close we
were. What was he doing?
"This will be quite a battle- actually, no, more like a full-fledged
war, seeing as we're both equally stubborn, blunt and determined to get
what we want. But make no mistake, I will take you on and I play to
win. After all, don't they always say 'All's fair in love and war?'"
he asked softly, and for some unimaginable reason, I shivered- whether
out of apprehension or excitement, I surely don't know.
Much to my distress, my shiver was not lost on him, for he cracked a
positively diabolical grin and said, "That ought to do it for
'introductions,'I suppose, unless you have another bombastic oration to present?"
I still couldn't quite speak.
"I didn't think so. Well, we start lessons tomorrow, 8 o'clock, don't
be late. You will bring your Latin, mathematics, literature and Roman
history books."
Ironically, his last statement jolted me out of my shocked silence, and
I croaked out, "I do hope you mean 8 o'clock in the evening, n'est-ce
pas?"
" Good one. No, my dear, I mean 8 o'clock in the bright, beautiful
morning. Seems as though the first thing I shall be curing you of is
unabashed laziness. Until tomorrow!" he said as he turned away from me.
Then, just as I was about to storm out fuming, he turned around and
remarked, "Oh, and by the way, as you seem to have an affinity for
French, see if you can figure out what this means; it may very well take
all night, but I'd like to know first thing in the morning what I mean
when I say, 'Laissez les jeux commencer.'"
"Oh, I know perfectly well what you mean, as the same thought occurred
to me right when my father introduced you. And for your kind information,
Mr. Darien Shields, the games have already begun!"
And with that I stomped out of the study and ran up the stairs to my room.
* * * * *
Lunch was quite uneventful; to my great displeasure, my mother had
invited Darien to eat with us, and I was informed that he would be
joining us for every meal thereafter. Father and Mother had a cheerful
conversation with their newest employee, and it was obvious that they
both liked him a great deal- no surprise there, as he was being very
charming, but somehow managing to seem very natural and easy about it.
By way of making small-talk, Mother asked what he had done and where
he had lived before he came here, but he managed to politely, and almost
imperceptibly, discourage this topic by engaging her in a discussion
about the cotillion we had attended a few nights before. I simply ate
without making eye contact with anyone and when my mother told me
sharply to stop sulking and that young ladies who looked so sullen would
never find someone to marry them, I was hard-pressed to swallow my anger
at the expression on Darien' face.
I spent my afternoon lying on the pink eiderdown quilt covering my bed,
thinking. There was clearly more to Darien than met the eye and without
actually realizing it, I wanted to know more about him. Who was he?
Where did he come from? His ordinary clothing belied his aristocratic
features, making it nearly impossible to figure out whether he was
truly of noble blood, or just a common man from one of the nearby
provinces. There was definitely a light Irish accent when he spoke,
and yet I could have sworn that there was something very Italian, or
maybe it was Spanish, about his face- where could he be from?
Some of my friends, well, rather, peers at Madame Finch's had left the
school for private tuition and from what I heard, their tutors were
obsequious young men, who eagerly presented their oh-so-slightly
embellished credentials and would do just about anything short of
jumping onto the desk and doing a jig (which, it was whispered in the
hall, one fellow actually did at the request of my friend Mina) to
insure the satisfaction of their pupils. From what I could deduce, their
attitude was something like, "Keep a smile on the little princess's face,
which in turn will keep a smile on Daddy's face, he'll fork over the
bullion, and that will keep a smile on my face! Everyone is happy,
everyone wins!"
Lucky me, of course, I had ended up with an instructor who looked
perfectly capable of making me a complete sycophant in order to please
him, rather than the other way around. I suppose in a way it was
somewhat nice that I hadn't been blessed with a blithering fool who
would stammer out "Yes miss!" and "No miss!" at my every command;
above all else, I loved a challenge, and I had a feeling that I had
finally gotten one. I just hoped fervently that I wasn't in over my
head-"I will take you on, and I play to win-" there was something
ominous and yet exciting in those words he had spoken and they baited
me into swearing that I would keep constant vigilance and never be
without a smart response to what he said or did.
Having made my resolution about how to deal with Darien, I took to
reading Ivanhoe, one of my all-time favorite novels. Adventure, bravery,
war and loyalty- the elements which comprised every book worth reading.
I had already pored over it several times, always skipping past the
romantic, sappy nonsense which I found tedious and Madame Finch's other
protégés usually found "utterly divine and so sweet." It usually took
all of my self-control to keep joining Raye in making tart remarks about
how they really ought to at least try making their incredible vapidity a
little less obvious. I had learned the hard way, namely losing my
afternoon meal as punishment for insolence, that filling my stomach had
priority over displaying my contempt for the other girls' empty heads.
I don't think I was entirely cynical and mean, though; I couldn't bear
to witness pain or sorrow, whether it was a human or animal experiencing
it and this usually became quite obvious to others within a few days of
meeting me. I had a few close friends at Madame Finch's, and we
generally kept to ourselves, but if there were only four or five, I never
noticed, for the ones I did have were the best a girl could ask for.
